Interview with a
by Ruby Rosetta Red
Summary: Bobby has a strange encounter. Initially a Hallowe'en based one shot that became more. Goren/OC. Chapter 4 now up.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: My first Hallowe'en based one shot. Sorry it's a day late. Bobby has an encounter at a busy bar one night. The character of Bobby Goren belongs to Dick Wolfe et al. Eloise is my own. Thoughts as always, are appreciated. Apologies for any and all errors....always unintentional. Belated Hallowe'en wishes!!**

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**Interview with a…**

Pale skin the colour of alabaster, it attracts his attention. In a society that prizes a sun tan above all else, the pallor really stands out and it entrances him for a second. He wishes that he could get closer to her to see whether it's really as smooth as it looks. As it is, seeing her from where he's sitting is enough. Her hair is a dark fiery red and something tells him that it's not from a bottle or a packet or whatever. It seems to be the real deal. He wants to get closer to check her out. She intrigues him.

She's sitting by herself but she's internal. She's not here to meet someone and she's not looking for anything. The drink in front of her gets her undivided attention and for a moment he's envious. He wonders what colour her eyes are.

_They're green. _

He starts when he hears the voice in his head as clear as his own thoughts. His eyes widen marginally.

_No. You didn't imagine it._

Now he's starting to feel a little freaked out. He picks up his glass and takes a swallow of beer. He replaces the glass on the counter and shifts slightly in his seat. He's an intelligent man, while not exactly a man of science; he tends to see the world in black and white with the occasional shade of grey mixed in.

_You should open your eyes wider, and then you'll see the colours. _

He freezes again. The bar is busy. It's a Saturday night and it's filled to bursting with revellers as well as regulars. Who the hell could be doing this and how?

_You wouldn't believe me if I told you. _

Damn there it is again. Is this is the start of it, did his mother start off like this? He had been seven years old when he had become aware of it happening to her but he'd been too young to understand.

_You're not losing your mind. It's really happening._

He barely contains his gasp. He takes another mouthful of beer and as he swallows it down, he decides to experiment.

_My name is Robert Goren. What about you?_

The following silence makes him seriously question his sanity but hell, he's curious.

_Eloise. Nice to meet you. Do you answer to Robert or Bobby?_

Well he'll be damned. He lifts his head slightly and he scans the faces at the bar. No one is looking at him. He turns his head and does a sweep of the surrounding tables. More of the same and now he's baffled. He frowns. He's baffled but he's also very, very intrigued.

_Who are you and more to the point, where are you?_

He feels stupid doing this, Eames would call it mind melding, Lord knows she's teased him about it a few times when they've worked cases and come to the same conclusion at the same time.

_That doesn't matter. I'm having fun._

Well he's glad someone is enjoying themselves. He concentrates on the voice and it occurs to him that the voice is female.

_Well done. Now you can eliminate half of the population of the bar. _

He sits back in his stool and scans the faces again. The fact that he can't pinpoint her frustrates him. He directs his attention to the redhead with the beautiful skin. She's drinking what looks like red wine and she still isn't looking at him. The voice had been female, had told her that the eyes he'd wondered about, _her_ eyes were green. Excitement flared inside of him. It was her; it had to be her.

_Are you sure?_

Her voice makes him freeze.

_It's you. How would you know otherwise?_

There's another silence. He waits for her to look at him, to acknowledge him. He's certain that he's got the right person. It's then that he sees the blonde approach the redhead, whom he's certain is Eloise, and slip into the vacant seat beside her. The redhead looks at her but doesn't acknowledge her. The blonde looks at him and his heart just about stops in his chest.

_Not so sure now are you?_

He watches the bar tender approach the blonde. He observes how she leans forward to speak to him. The bar tender nods and moves away. A glass of white wine materialises in front of her a couple of moments later.

_You didn't answer my question before. Is it Robert or Bobby? _

He's thoroughly unnerved now and he looks down at his beer. How many has he had tonight?

_That's only your second beer. You're not drunk. Answer my question handsome._

His head snaps up. Handsome?

_Well you are. You should lighten up; I bet you have a wonderful smile._

He was being chatted up by a disconnected voice. Wonderful. Could this night get any freakier?

_Depends on your definition of freaky._

Alright, enough is enough. He's beyond weirded out and _way_ past freaked out. Has he dropped into an episode of the Twilight Zone without realising it?

_Aww, don't be scared. It's Hallowe'en. _

He takes a deep breath.

_Stop it. _

The silence is so long this time. Of course it's Hallowe'en. Now he sees the decorations…the carved Jack o'Lanterns, the grinning skulls, the rubber vampire bats. How the hell had he not noticed them earlier?

_Because you weren't paying attention Bobby. I hope you don't mind but you look like a Bobby to me. _

Oh God…he's hallucinating, losing his mind or in the middle of a really weird, awful dream.

_You know you're not. You're not hallucinating, losing your mind and you're certainly not asleep. Look across the bar._

Automatically he does.

The redhead is watching him now. The blonde has left. He watches her smile.

He sees her eyes change, become lighter, almost luminescent and he swears he sees…_fangs?_

The change is subtle, fleeting and gone so quickly that he's not sure whether he's just imagined what he's just witnessed. He blinks.

_What the…_

His spine snaps straight as a chill floods through him.

_Happy Hallowe'en Bobby. It's been fun._

He slides off his stool and pushes his way through the crowds. His heart is hammering in his chest; his knees feel a little rubbery. What the hell has he just witnessed? He tries to keep his eyes on her. She's still seated at the bar, for all intents and purposes just enjoying a solitary drink in a crowded bar. Someone bumps into him and momentarily knocks him sideways and he is forced to look away.

He reaches her seat and is disappointed to see it vacant. The glass is on the bar and it's empty. He turns his head and looks for a redhead but he can't see anyone, he can't see her. He frowns in confusion and heads towards the exit. He forces his way through the crowds unapologetically but it's too late, she's nowhere to be seen.

_Where are you?_

All around him people are celebrating. The sounds fill his head but he ignores them and listens for one voice, _her _voice. He waits almost expectantly.

He doesn't hear her and he's disappointed.

_Talk to you again soon handsome._

Her voice echoes loudly inside of his head and this time, instead of feeling unnerved, he just smiles.

**FIN.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Ignore the 'fin' of the previous chapter. A couple of you mentioned the possibility of another chapter, so this is it. It's set immediately after chapter one. All errors are my own. I have an idea to make this into a longer fic but am still thinking about it. As it is, it's left at a place that it could be a longer fic. The character of Bobby Goren belongs to Dick Wolf et al but Eloise is my own creation. It's something or nothing but this is what popped into my head. Thoughts appreciated as always, errors are my own. **

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**Two:**

The smile lasts for a moment or two and then he thinks. He turns around and then he leaves.

He stands on the sidewalk and looks up and down the street. It's a cold night and it's starting to rain but he ignores it.

Where could she have gone? He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them again. He turns to his left and walks.

_Eloise. Where are you?_

Expectantly he waits; he wants her to reply. Instead he's greeted by silence.

No matter, his apartment isn't too far away and the combination of cold air and rain will help to clear the cobwebs and give him time to muse over what just happened. He still finds it hard to comprehend, even harder to believe but somehow he does. It blows his mind.

_She sees him leave the bar and she sinks back into the shadows when he stops walking. She hears him ask for her and a thrill drives through her. Then she slowly smiles. He begins to walk again. She looks up at the night sky and sees the rain drops fall. The cold wind doesn't make her shiver but he does. She watches him disappear into the night._

As usual his mail box is filled to overflowing and he spends a moment retrieving it and sorting through it. He should've done this earlier but he'd been called out before the sun had even risen. It had been the furthest thing from his mind when he'd left work. He sighed and tucked them under one arm and turned to the stairs.

His limbs are heavy as he climbs the stairs to his floor. He feels like he's a hundred years old. He pauses outside of his door and pulls his keys out of his jacket pocket. He stares at them resting in the palm of his hand for a moment before lifting his head and staring at the door.

He takes a deep breath and quickly unlocks the door, slipping inside and closing it behind him. He stops still and absorbs the silence. Usually he treasures his down time; he usually likes the silence, but tonight it irritates him. He feels lonely. He sighs and goes into his sparse living room. He drops his mail onto the coffee table which is threatening to be overwhelmed by the newspapers and other envelopes currently taking up residence there. He shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up before he forgets.

He's tired and feeling sluggish and he contemplates hitting the sack but thoughts of Eloise intrude. It lightens him up and he heads back into his living room and to his book case.

His selection of books is huge. He scans the titles. They cover every subject that interests him and that's a lot. He knows what he's looking for and in a second he finds it. Just as he begins to extract it, there's a quiet knock at his door. He pauses and frowns. Who's knocking on his door at this time of the night?

_Open it and find out._

It's her again and rare excitement flares in his gut. He pushes the book back onto the shelf and goes to the door.

It takes him next to no time to undo the locks and open it up.

She's standing on his doorstep and the first thought that crosses his mind is that her eyes _are_ green. They're a deep verdant moss colour that's almost unnatural. Her skin is porcelain pale and utterly flawless. He watches her slowly smile.

"Are you going to let me in Bobby?" It's the first time that he's heard her speak and her voice is slightly husky and sweetly seductive. _Uh-Oh. _

The answering silence is heavy.

"Are you turned on by a woman's voice?" Her tone is playful. His expression becomes intense.

"What do you think?" She smiles widely and then steals a glance downwards. It takes him all that he has not to follow her gaze; it's what she wants him to do.

"You have a beautiful voice" he tells her before she can answer. She shrugs.

"So do you" she tells him. They just stare at each other and the seconds tick by. After what seems like an eternity, he takes a small step backwards and cracks the door open a little wider and watches her slide inside.

"Don't you need an invitation first?" she looks at him over one pale shoulder as she goes into the living room.

"That's just a story. I was being polite" she informs him. He rolls his eyes behind her back as he closes the door and then follows her.

* * *

She's in his personal space and he experiences a sense of unreality. He stands still and watches how she slowly takes in her surroundings. She seems to be completely at ease bearing in mind that she's never been here before. She then pauses and slowly turns around to look at him.

"It doesn't pay to be ill at ease" she informs him and he resists the urge to squirm when he realises that she has read his mind.

Again.

He's going to have to work on that.

_Please don't. You fascinate me. _

"I wish you wouldn't do that. It's intrusive and …"

"Unnerving?" He just nods.

"Some people find it fascinating" she tells him. He folds his arms tightly across his chest.

"I'm not some people" he informs her. She just regards him and then softly smiles.

"So I see" she replies.

"You have a really nice place here…quiet and solitary. It suits you" she walks towards him and transfixed, he watches her. She stops just in front of him, not quite in his personal space but close enough.

"Do you have anything to drink?" she asks.

"Apart from me?" the quip just slides out of him and she cocks an eyebrow in surprise and a nanosecond later she bursts into laughter. He allows himself a very small smile. Her laughter subsides and she just shakes her head, those brilliant green eyes alive with merriment.

"Not unless you want me to?" she teases, at least he _hopes_ that she's teasing.

* * *

A few minutes later she's nursing a glass of deep red wine. He watches her take a sip. She notices his lack of a glass.

"Aren't you joining me?" she invites and watches as he shakes his head. He has a feeling that he will need his wits about him tonight.

"I had beer…before…" his words stumble over themselves and she gives an elegant shrug and takes another sip.

"You don't mix your drinks…that's very wise" she tells him as she carefully places the glass onto the kitchen bench.

"What are you doing here?" he asks her.

"You asked me to come" She watches him frown.

"You followed me" he corrects but she shakes her head, sending her flame coloured hair rippling.

"No, you asked where I was. I just chose not to answer that's all" He watches her face.

"You hung around…"

"Because I knew you'd follow. After what you just witnessed…I didn't believe for a second that you'd just let it go like that"

_She's right. I wouldn't leave it at that_.

That she would know that sits uncomfortably with him.

"But why me? There were a hundred other guys at that bar…"

"Maybe. None of them are as interesting as you"

"You don't know that. You don't know me" he tells her just a little more fiercely.

"Don't I? People go out to a bar to socialise Bobby…to make friends, make eye contact and talk. You were in there for over an hour and you did none of those. You're like me" This revelation makes Bobby's eyes open wide.

"Pardon me...Uh… I'm like you? How exactly?"

"For the reasons I've just explained. You are alone…you _choose_ to be alone and I'm absolutely fascinated as to why" she takes a step closer to him.

_I think I liked it better when we held our conversation in my head_

_Not a problem._

By now she's all but pressed up against him but he doesn't touch her. He wants to but he doesn't.

"_You don't trust me" _She watches him frown.

"_I don't trust myself"_

The confession is swift and stunning. They stare into each other's eyes and the silence is heavy.

"_You can trust me" _She watches him; his eyes are heavy lidded and she can hear the slow, but steady thrum of his heartbeat.

_Want to play Bobby? _She doesn't quite touch him but she makes her intention plain. As she hopes, the steady thrum begins to pick up speed. She can hear his breathing quicken slightly.

"Okay. That's…now that's enough" and he moves away from her in a move so quick and so unexpected that she blinks in surprise. She watches him. He's still breathing a little heavier and as she listens, his heartbeat remains somewhat accelerated.

"Would you prefer it if I left?" she asks him. If he tells her yes, then she'll leave. It's not often that she's wrong about someone but it isn't unheard of. He swallows. He's seriously uncomfortable and she prepares herself for his rejection.

"No…" his reply is so soft that even with her hearing, she almost misses it. He clears his throat.

"Please…stay…" he invites instead.

She moves towards him and touches his hand. She slips her fingers around his. They feel cool to him and he opens his hand and allows her hand to slide over his and hold on.

"What are you so afraid of Bobby?" she enquires.

"Why…uh… why do you think that I am?"

"The question with a question. I won't hurt you" she's disappointed that he would even think that she would.

"I know" he replies huskily.

"You do?" he inclines his head just the one time. Her stomach does a funny little dip. All the time he has said this, he hasn't once broken eye contact. His eyes are a deep dark brown, some might even say fathomless. There are secrets buried in them, she can almost sense them.

"Yeah…it wouldn't be up for discussion" Plus he senses it about her. He's out of his comfort zone but somehow he knows that she wouldn't hurt him. He shakes his head slightly at the thought, he's a full six inches or more taller than her but she can hurt him in more ways than one.

_I won't. _

Damn it, he's going to have to learn to throw up some kind of mental barriers, he doesn't like how she can just dip into his mind like that.

_Sorry. _

He looks at her and then retrieves her wineglass from the bench. He holds it out to her.

"I want you to stay"

**_tbc?_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Many thanks for the amazing reviews!. I'm setting this through season seven though the timeline may be slightly off. I'm building this up towards something (I hope). All errors are my own and not intentional. Bobby G & co. belongs to Dick Wolf et al, Eloise belongs to me. Thoughts are always appreciated.**

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** Chapter Three:**

She takes the wine glass from him and sips. His hand is still entwined around her own and she can feel its warmth over her cool flesh. It feels strangely comforting to her despite feeling a little less than comfortable in his presence. Then he lets go of her and she misses the contact but it allows her time to restore a little of her self preservation.

"Are we going to spend all our time talking in the kitchen Bobby?" she asks him, masking her sudden quiver of nerves with a smile. He blinks and opens his eyes a little wider.

"Oh…I'm sorry…let's go…sit down" he responds and moves past her and out of the small kitchen. She sighs quietly and follows.

Again she takes in her surroundings. This is Bobby Goren's private domain. She guesses that very few people are invited here. She walks towards the floor to ceiling book cases that line one wall. She sees the subject matter on display and it's a far cry from the usual Stephen King, Dean Koontz et al library she's seen in the past. She doubts there's a single fiction book in this collection. They were all based on psychology, forensic pathology, even some case studies about the deviant mind. She slowly turns and regards him, an eyebrow raised.

"This is some really heavy stuff you have here Bobby" she watches him walk over to stand beside her and she looks at him as he scans the titles himself. He's not uncomfortable, he's the complete opposite.

"It's for my…I need this…"

"I take it it's not bedtime reading?" he turns his head and looks at her. His eyes warm up very slightly. Then he looks away again and she sees a smile on his face, very brief and fleeting.

"No…no it's not" he confesses. She feels her curiosity begin to flood back.

"So what do you read for pleasure?" she asks him. She hears him sigh loudly and sees him shrug those wide shoulders of his.

"This and that. The Smithsonian, National Geographic, the New York Times" he reels them off and she's impressed. He reads those for _pleasure?_

"Don't tell me…you can actually _do_ the Times crossword?" He looks at her again and she knows he's wondering whether she's teasing him or not.

"It's not unknown, usually when I have the time though"

"Your job keeps you busy" he just nods. She tilts her head slightly. She's noticed that he doesn't hold eye contact for very long. The only exception had been previously in the kitchen but now it's quick and tenuous.

"What do you do for a living anyway?" she enquires.

"You ask a hell of a lot of questions…"

"For a vampire? Call it terminal curiosity" she retorts. The V word drops heavily between them and cuts off any further conversation. She takes another sip of her wine instead and moves away from him. There's a fireplace opposite her but no fire. She sees the badge and advances towards it. She reaches out and picks it up and sees the shiny shield.

"Badge number 3476, New York Police Detective. You're a cop" she looks at him and ignores the chill that shivers through her body. Of course he's a cop; it all begins to make sense to her now. He's beside her before she knows it and gently lifting it from her fingers.

"Yeah, I'm a cop, a detective on the Major Case Squad" he fills in. She watches him slide the badge into the front pocket of his jeans. He looks at her.

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough" She indicates the books.

"And they're part of your job?" He just nods.

"They come in useful" he adds on.

_She can just imagine._At his invitation, she sinks gracefully down onto the sofa. Everything is old or worn. She gets the impression that he sees this place as somewhere to inhabit, not necessarily to live in. He doesn't call this place home. Everything is strictly there for a reason; it's functional. There are no personal possessions here and she isn't about to consider his shield something 'personal'. There are no photographs on show, nothing to remind him that he haw a family. With sudden clarity she realises that he intends it to be like this.

* * *

"What?" he enquires, noticing how her expression has changed so slightly. She watches as he sits down beside her. She can hear the blood rushing through his veins; the steady beat of his pulse but he's keeping his distance all the same.

_That's the kind of man he is._

"You're so alone" her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper but he hears it clearly. He resists the urge to move further away. He makes himself look at her. He makes himself hold her gaze.

"I've never met anyone…" he begins but she shakes her head.

"It's a choice for you Bobby. You _choose_ to be alone. Why is that?"

_God, if only you knew…_ He frowns because he knows that she's heard his thoughts.

"Knew what?" He exhales loudly and she lifts up a hand.

"I'm…I'm sorry" she apologises immediately.

A few seconds tick by. He regards her and he wonders whether it would be worth sharing what little there's left of his life history with her.

"It's just…easier…my job…the risks…there are a lot of divorces…fatalities in the line of duty…" again his words fall over themselves. She tilts her head as she listens to him.

"Have you ever been married?" she asks him and he swears he feels himself begin to blush.

"Uh…ummm…no…" he admits.

"Then how do you know it would happen to you?"

"Because it's commonplace in my line of work" he reiterates. She sighs.

"If that were the case, there'd be a lot of lonely people on the force" she begins

"And who's to say that there isn't?" he asks her. She looks into his dark brown _troubled_ eyes.

"If you want a relationship badly enough then _nothing_ gets in the way of it," she reminds him and immediately a tension envelops. She lifts her glass to her lips and takes a tiny sip. The conversation is becoming way too intense for her liking.

"Do you speak from experience?" his voice is quiet and curious. She glances at him.

"I'm different" she lowers the glass to rest on her knee.

"Because you're a…"

"Vampire? You're allowed to say it, I won't be offended. Yeah…because I'm a…" she lets her voice trail away.

"How long have you been…like this?" she looks down into the deep red liquid and gently swirls it around in the glass.

"A…long time" she eventually confesses.

"You look barely thirty years old" She flashes him a very brief smile.

"That's because that was how old I was when I was…turned…"

"Will you tell me your age?" She lifts her glass to her lips again and drains it completely. She gets to her feet, suddenly restless. He remains seated and watches her instead.

She walks past him and stands beside the uncovered window. She stares across the nightscape but doesn't see the sparkle of lights or notice the traffic sounds below her.

"Eloise?" His voice is still soft and very close. It's discomforting that she didn't hear him approach. She looks at him. He's standing beside her at the window but he's taking no notice of what's going on outside there.

"Have I made you…uncomfortable?" For the first time his huge presence unsettles her more than just a little bit.

"Not…really…I just don't like…"

"To talk about yourself? I can relate to that"

_Yeah he probably could._

"Who do you talk to Bobby? When you need to talk to someone who do you go to?" She watches as he goes very still, blind-sided by her question.

"You have nobody…nobody whom you trust deeply enough. You're a cop…do you have a partner?" He nods just the once.

"You must talk to him…or is it her?"

"Her. Her name is Alex Eames" he confides. She tilts her head to the side.

"You call her by her surname don't you? Does she?"

_How the hell does she know about that?_ He sees the small triumphant smile on her face and he realises that he's done it again.

"You're right…I do…and it depends on how much I've…annoyed… her whether she calls me by my first name or not" he admits.

"You annoy her a lot?" He shrugs one shoulder.

"More often than I should" Her smile widens.

"I'd like to meet her one day" she tells him. She doesn't need to be able to read his mind to know that hell would freeze over before he allowed that to happen. As far as he's concerned, he doesn't plan on seeing her again after tonight.

She's going to see about that….


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Apologies for the huge gap between posting chapters. Thank you to those of you who left reviews. I have a vague idea for a plot for this fic so i'll post them up as and when. All errors are my own. Bobby, Eames and recognisable characters belong to who they belong to, Eloise and Matteo are my own creations. **

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**Four.**

"How long have you and your Eames been partners?" she asks him. She sees the briefest of frowns wrinkle his brow.

"She's not ...mine …and we've been …partners for…six…seven years" there's the faintest slice of irritation in his voice. She refuses to feel intimidated by this.

"Can't you remember?"

"It feels like she's always been there" he confesses eventually. She quells the urge to smile.

_He feels comfortable with her._

That's a good sign.

"But you don't trust her, not completely"

"Do you trust anyone Eloise?" he parries.

"It's not really worth it. They get old, they die or they just laugh at me when I tell them who…what I really am. Mostly they think I'm delusional and that's when they leave"

"I haven't"

"We've just met Bobby but you will," They just look at each other.

"They always leave Bobby whether they want to or not" she tells him quietly. They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. It's Bobby who breaks eye contact first. Eloise uses the opportunity to move a little further away from him; under his scrutiny she begins to realise what a butterfly feels like when its pinned to a board. She moves back to his bookcase, using the opportunity to grab back some equilibrium.

"You have no photographs of anyone here…not a single one…" the revelation doesn't really surprise her but it gets away from the subject of herself. For a moment she thinks that he won't answer. She hears a long slow exhalation of breath instead and then his heavy footfall. Once again he's standing beside her but careful to remain a respectful distance.

"And that's a problem because?" She turns. She has to look at him.

"Family Bobby…where is your family?"

"Dead or not worth caring about" he answers quickly, almost inaudibly. She hears the pain in that sentence and it saddens her beyond belief.

"Do you…_did_ you have…anyone?" he gently prods. He watches her expression change very slightly.

"Once upon a time" she admits. He understands the message, that's all he's getting from her.

She's tired of feeling like the participant of a weird dance that she doesn't know the steps to.

"They're all gone now" she says faintly. She straightens up.

"I think I need to get out of here" she tells him and he looks at her in surprise.

"It'll be dawn soon…" Bobby frowns. It can't be any more than two or three in the morning. He glances at his watch. It's almost three.

Already?

"I can sense the dawn a long time before anyone else" she confides. It's a curse, she always knows when the sun is going to rise, and it's like a warning sign.

"Of course" he answers.

He walks with her to the door. He wonders whether he'll ever see her again. Belatedly he remembers.

"If you want to, I'll be around" she replies almost apologetically. She then steps on tiptoe and presses a kiss on his cheek; her lips are cold and for some reason it surprises him.

"Take care" she whispers and she's gone.

* * *

The memory of her lingers with him. He spends the next day alone in his apartment just remembering, speculating and questioning. What he witnessed challenges all that he believes in. By the time Monday arrives, he has convinced him that it was all an elaborate hallucination, that somehow his beer had been spiked and it had been just one weird mind-bending trip.

He's at work bright and early and before Eames. He's nursing a cup of coffee and ignoring the queasy churning it creates in his gut. He should know by now the effect that the coffee has on him but he never learns. He's a creature of habit.

"Good weekend?" she queries as she shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up. She turns her head to see her partner lift his head from the report he's been reading.

"It was…interesting…" he admits and the tone of his voice catches her interest.

"Yeah? Interesting how...oh please…I don't think I want to know" He smiles and closes the file and watches her sit down opposite him.

"Just interesting…how was yours?" She huffs out a sigh that he recognises.

"The same" He nods.

He can safely say that his weekend definitely hasn't been 'the same'.

* * *

Eloise paces around her subterranean apartment. Normally she guards her privacy almost jealously but since befriending Bobby, it begins to feel like a prison. She retreats into her tiny kitchen and opens the refrigerator.

She freezes as she feels awareness frisson through her. She pauses and she can hear a single heartbeat. Slowly she straightens up and calmly closes the door. She turns.

"Matteo…." She sighs in irritation "have you forgotten how to knock?"

The man is lounging in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. His was not the heartbeat that she heard. She flicks a look of disinterest at the person beside him, her heartbeat she heard as clear as day. She's petite; shoulder length blonde hair that she's positive came from a box. She has dark brown eyes and it's those that snag her attention. There's no emotion there.

_Curious._

"The door was open" he tells her. It wasn't but she doesn't remind him. He knows full well that she locks her door, but it's Matteo. She walks towards him. She's aware that the blonde is watching her with keen interest and she wonders whether she knows.

_She doesn't. Not yet_. She fixes him with a cool glance

_You're planning on telling her? Do you think that's a good idea?_ She watches him straighten up. She flicks another look towards his companion. Something tells her that sharing their secret with her wouldn't be a good idea at all but telling her friend that was another matter altogether.

_I haven't decided yet._ His tone is waspish, bordering on childish and she bites back a smile.

"As …lovely…as it is to see you, what do you want?" she asks instead.

"I'm just checking in…haven't seen you for a little while. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine Matteo…yourself?" She watches him exchange a long look with his companion and she feels something clench in the pit of her stomach. It's not jealousy, she outgrew her jealousy of Matteo's women a long, long time ago but there's something about this one that has her senses on high alert.

"I wanted to introduce you to _Nicoletta_" he tells her.

"Nicole" the women corrects him and Eloise detects a faint accent. She's not American and she wonders whether she's English….or maybe even…Australian? The women holds out a hand and Eloise feels obliged to take it. She feels Matteo's keen gaze boring into her.

_You want me to like this one Matteo?_ She's feeling bold.

She regards Nicole's dead, _dead _eyes.

_Because I don't. _

**_TBC...._**


End file.
